Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

bad luck

i woke up to nothing but

your dog displayed beside the

length of my own body.

i still felt cold even though

her body temperature was above

average and it was like she

had a prophecy to share.

you were two hours late,

and your father had worry lines

mapping out his features,

i knew it when i tasted the heavy air

and the sky was the color of

shady shelves with the books

cemented to the wood.

my hands were in knots when

the phone slipped back into

the pocket and i realized why

you didn't soothe my curling

thoughts that were on catastrophes

and so i focused on my heart beating

through my stomach.

 

i stood by in shock,

paramedics and state police

lit words under tires and

metal casings down the ravine,

i wondered how you got out of

the twisted seat belts and air-

tight windows.

 

the blue man said you were

as high as a kite,

and your father's lungs couldn't

calculate and then formulate

the few words to tell them

of your heavy lifting and

bleeding tongued sorrows.

i wanted to *****

 

in the hospital beds,

rows and rows of numbers

that held contorted body parts

and tears of anger and fear,

i found you,

ready to transfer for more

opinions and observations

that wouldn't tell anything

about how your mind

actually worked.

just the basics, the nuts

and bolts;

doctors couldn't tell us

why you were so

upset when visiting hours

were through,

yet i could.

you said you thought you

loved me.

and i believe it.

but things are now tangled

like a gold chain necklace,

and now we have

to ease it out to get

back to straight lines.

 

we have to let things heal,

like the stitching on your

face and the trauma

gathered in your

backbone.

 

let it be,

you'll stand up straight again.

Request permission to use this poem
Written by
danielle-jones
English
Published
May 2, 2011
Lines·Words
68·315
Notes

© Danielle Jones 2011

Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell danielle-jones how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write